The Lost Soul
by lilactorgirl
Summary: A theory of Voldemort's past... written before HBP I swear! This is cool because I wrote most of it during a blackout at night because of a hurricane.


My name is Thomas Marvalo Riddle. I am eleven years old.

I live in an orphanage in southern England. I'm not telling you which, because that does not matter.

Here I have no friends, but I do not want them. I don't fit in here, because I'm not an orphan. I'm just not wanted. My father left my mother before I was born, and my mother died soon after giving birth to me. My father is still alive, and I've even written to him. However, he just sent me a note saying he wanted to forget my mother and me. My mother died soon after giving me my name: Thomas after my father, and Marvalo for my grandfather.

According to Susan Radcliffe, the woman who runs the orphanage, I arrived during a horrible thunderstorm in late October ten years ago. Perhaps that's why I love going out into thunderstorms while all the other children act like cowards and hide under their beds.

I stay by myself most of the time. I feel alone and unwanted. It's nice though, because then you don't owe anyone anything. I also feel special, as if there's something hidden inside me, waiting to be discovered.

Right now I'm sitting on a windowsill overlooking the whole town. Rain is pouring down outside… it comforts me.

I turned, hearing footsteps. Susan was walking towards me, followed by a couple of elderly men. One had a beard and half-moon spectacles.

"Tom, these men would like to talk to you," said Mrs. Radcliffe. She had long, dark brown hair, which was braided today. There was concern in her light green eyes.

"May we have a word with you?" asked the elderly man with the half-moon glasses. I nodded.

"We have an empty room right over there," said Mrs. Radcliffe. She pointed toward a door at the end of a long hallway. The men nodded, and I followed them down the hallway. However, the man with the half-moon glasses said, before leaving, to Mrs. Radcliffe, "Please make sure that no one else comes down to that room. Only Tom, Professor Dippet, and I should be in this hallway. Understood?" She nodded. "Thank you very much."

The other elderly man, who I supposed must be Professor Dippet, continued walking toward the empty room. I followed him, and the other man followed behind us soon afterward.

Professor Dippet closed the door gently after the other man and I had come in. Then the two men sat on one side of a table, and I took a seat on the opposite side.

For a moment, the men stared at me. I stared back, not saying anything. Then, Professor Dippet said, "Tom, I'm Professor Dippet. This is Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore said simply, "Good to meet you, Tom." He even shook my hand. Then, he said, "Tom, how much do you know about why your father left your mother?"

I was silent for a moment. How did these men know about that? I said, "Not too much. I just know my father's a horrible man, and he ran out on my mother before she even had me. But she still gave me his filthy, rotten —"

"I know you are named for your father. However, there is a distinct reason your father left your mother," said Dumbledore. "Do you know what that is?"

"No, and I don't care. There's no excuse —"

"No, I perfectly agree, Tom. But, there was a specific reason." Dumbledore hesitated. "You're — you're a wizard, Tom."

I stared at him. A — A _what?_ He couldn't have said a _wizard, _could he?

I chuckled. "Sorry, April Fool's Day isn't for a few more months. It's June."

Dumbledore looked solemn. "This is no joke, Tom. You're mother was a witch. You're father was a Muggle —"

"A what?" I asked.

"A Muggle. It means non-magic. He didn't realize that your mother was a witch until after they were married. When she told him, he ran out on her and went back to his parents' house. She remained on her own for a while, but grew depressed and sad. She grew weak, and she didn't have enough strength to live for long after having you. However, you are a wizard, Tom."

I was silent. It — It couldn't be. How could _I _be a wizard? I had only read about them in the books, which I didn't believe anyway.

"So — why are you telling me this?" I asked.

Professor Dippet pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to me.

"This is for you," he said. In emerald green in was written:

Mr. T. Riddle

Third Room on the Left

Radcliffe Orphanage,

57 Plaza Drive

London, England.

I opened it up, and it was a letter.

Dear Mr. Riddle,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We await your owl no later than July 31st. Please find enclosed a list of supplies needed for your first year.

We look forward to seeing you.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster.

I stared at the letter, disbelieving. I looked at Dumbledore. "Is this — a joke?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Tom. It's not. The choice is up to you: Would you rather go to Hogwarts, or stay here?"

"Go to Hogwarts, of course! I'd be mad to want to stay here," I said.

Professor Dippet stood up. "Then we shall return in a few days to take you to buy your supplies and tell you everything you need to know. Farewell." He moved toward the door, and Dumbledore followed. Dippet seemed to want to talk to Dumbledore badly. I crept against the wall behind them and stayed hidden as I listened to them talk.

"Are you sure this is the right thing, Dumbledore?" asked Dippet.

"Of course, Professor Dippet. Mr. Riddle is a wizard like you and I. He deserves a chance."

"But you've heard what they've said about Tom, Dumbledore…They say he mumbles in his sleep about murdering his father…"

"I have a hard time imagining that most people would not think of murdering someone who has betrayed them as much as Tom's father betrayed him. You know that his father told him specifically that he wasn't wanted. Tom doesn't fit in here, because he's not a Muggle and not an orphan."

"Still…"

"You know I believe that anyone can rise above their circumstances. I believe that coming to Hogwarts is what Tom needs," said Dumbledore. "And I will personally come get him if you do not."

"Very well, Dumbledore. I just hope this isn't a mistake…"

I froze. Dippet didn't want me to go to Hogwarts? I couldn't blame him. What he had said was true. I did think of killing my father for the horrible things he did to my mother and me. But, as Dumbledore said, who wouldn't? I was glad to have Dumbledore on my side. He was kind, generous, and wise. I actually liked him then.

Dippet and Dumbledore kept their word and returned a few days later. They took me to London and showed me how to get to Diagon Alley, a long, crooked street. Dumbledore went into Gringotts, a wizard bank, with me and helped me get some money. The currency that wizards used was different than the Muggle money I was used to. There were the large gold galleons, smaller silver sickles, and even smaller bronze knuts.

The first thing we purchased was my wand, from a shop called Ollivanders. Dumbledore had seemed particularly impressed by my wand, which was Yew and had a Phoenix tail feather in it.

Sadly, I had to return to the orphanage until September 1st, when I would take a train to King's Cross Station. But I was left alone. For once.

On the train to Hogwarts, I sat by myself in a compartment. I saw many fellow students, all happy, all greeting one another. It sickened me. I was glad that I was sitting alone. I was flipping through my books, as I had nothing better to do.

After what seemed an eternity, we arrived at Hogsmeade station. The sun had set already. When I got off the train, I saw a tall, elderly man with a cat at his feet. In his hands was a lantern.

"All first years come with me! All first years, hurry up now! I haven't got all day…"

I frowned, wondering why we had to go with him. An older student said, "That's Filch. He's the Caretaker. Watch out for him, and his cat, Mrs. Norris. They're always looking for troublemakers. But don't worry, now he's just going to take first years on a special boat ride to Hogwarts. See you!"

I gave a half-attempt of a wave and drifted to Filch. He sounded like someone I'd definitely need to watch out for….

Sure enough, Filch led all the first years to a row of boats. We took the boats across the lake and up to the castle. I caught my first glimpse of the castle.

_This is going to be a new life_, I thought to myself. _Now I'll be where I fit in_. _Where I belong_…

We climbed up the steep front staircase and up to the doors. Filch knocked, and Dumbledore answered. He looked at us all and smiled.

"Welcome all, to Hogwarts. My name is Albus Dumbledore. Now, your fellow classmates all are seated in the Great Hall, behind me. However, before you may sit among them you must be Sorted into a house. You may be in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. In whichever house you are placed, that shall become your dormitory. Points will be awarded and deducted from houses. The house with the most points at the end of the year receives the House Cup, which is a great honor. In a moment I shall return to bring you into the Great Hall. Please wait for a few minutes more."

With that, he went back into the Great Hall. The rest of us stood around, looking at each other. Some people were chatting with others they knew. I leaned up against a wall. It was made of stone, and felt cool.

Then, the doors to the Great Hall opened once more. Dumbledore strode out.

"Ah! Please, first years, follow me."

Everyone filed into the Great Hall, following Dumbledore's long, billowy, black robes. I looked around. Many of the students were smiling, while others were catcalling at us. I saw a table of particularly smug-looking people who were clearly laughing at all of us.

Finally we'd come to the front of the Great Hall. Dumbledore placed a stool and an old tattered hat before us. There was silence throughout the Great Hall, and the first years followed everyone else's lead. Then, a rip near the brim opened wide, and the hat began to sing.

_I'm not as black as I used to be,_

_But I can still judge, trust me._

_I will always know in which house you should be._

_Gryffindor for the brave and daring,_

_Whose glories are ever remaining._

_Ravenclaw for those with sharp minds,_

_Who can always think themselves out of a bind._

_Hufflepuff for the cheeriest,_

_Who always act their fairest._

_Or in Slytherin, for those who seek power,_

_Month, by month, day by day, hour by hour._

_So place me tight on your head,_

_There's nothing you have to dread._

_I'll merely say in which house you belong,_

_Come now… I won't take long!_

The hall burst into applause. I did too, although I was thinking about which house I wanted to be in…. Slytherin sounded by far the best and the most suited for me. Dumbledore unrolled the parchment and began reading off names. There were many Hufflepuffs, some Ravenclaws, a few Gryffindors, and only one or two Slytherins.

Finally, Dumbledore called, "Riddle, Thomas."

I stepped forward tentatively. I sat down, and Dumbledore placed the Sorting Hat on my head.

For a moment there was nothing, but then a small voice spoke.

"Ah! A challenge. Yes, quite a challenge… courage, brains… where shall I put you?"

"How should I know?" I thought to myself.

"A good question, Mr. Riddle. I see some very interesting things in your mind…yes, very interesting indeed… what an unhappy youth you have had…"

"Stop that! My memories are my own!"

"Ah, yes, but I know things even _you_ don't know about you. Yes… I see some incredible potential power… yes… but ―"

"But what?"

"You can only truly learn your full powers if you're placed in Slytherin."

"Then put me in Slytherin!"

"With your father, they won't take kindly to you. Slytherin himself favored Pure-blood wizards, although his wishes seem to have been forgotten…."

"I'll be fine. Just let me worry about that…."

"But Mr. Riddle… the Slytherins shall be horrible to you. They will show no mercy to you. Gryffindors will be much kinder ―"

"But that doesn't matter! I want to be in Slytherin!"

"Power means that much to you? So much you're willing to take torture?"

"Yes! I mean, it's worth it, isn't it?"

"Well, it clearly is to you… very well. SLYTHERIN!"

One of the four tables burst into applause and catcalling. I saw, to my distaste, that the group of students at the Slytherin table all had a smug expression on their faces. I wondered why they felt they were better than everyone else. I took my seat next to an older boy, who rolled his eyes as soon as I sat.

Headmaster Dippet rose. "Welcome all, to another year at Hogwarts! I welcome all. Now, before we can begin our feast, I must announce that as a precaution for everyone's safety, the use of magic in the corridors is forbidden to all students, first years and above. Also, the forest on the Hogwarts grounds is strictly off-limit to all. There are many dangerous things in that forest. I recommend all who wish for their safety avoid the forest at all costs. With that said, let us begin the feast!"

Golden platters filled with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, chips, and many other amazing foods. I licked my lips and cut myself some roast chicken.

The older Slytherin cut himself a drumstick. He tore off a piece of it with his teeth, chewed and swallowed it, and turned to me.

"What's your name?"

"Tom Riddle," I answered quickly.

"Jacob Sweeny," the boy responded unemotionally. He turned and looked at the Gryffindor table. "I can't believe it. The way they let in Mudbloods!"

I took a bite and nodded. I didn't know what "Mudblood" meant, but I was clearly meant to not like them.

Jacob turned to me. "I assume _you're_ not one, are you, Riddle?" I hesitated for a moment. "I mean, both of your parents were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

I looked at my plate.

Jacob slammed his fist on the table and stood.

"_Damn _Mudblood! Get _away _from me ― get away! You don't _belong_ in Slytherin!"

I stood my ground. "I do too! The Sorting Hat placed me here."  
"Then the Hat's gone mad! Slytherin wanted to protect this school from people like _you_!"

I rose. "MY MOTHER WAS A WITCH! SHE MARRIED A _STUPID _MUGGLE WHO RAN OFF WHEN HE LEARNED THE TRUTH! I _HATE_ BEING RELATED TO HIM!"

Jacob seemed taken-aback by this outburst. But I remained standing. Then, narrowing his eyes, Jacob said, "That doesn't change anything. So _what_ if you have a witch mother? You're still a _half-blood_ ― and not worthy of being in Slytherin house!"

With that he stormed out of the Great Hall. Many of the other Slytherins began staring at me, eyeing me with the same distaste Jacob had shown. Members of other houses began staring at me as well, clearly thinking I was mad.

I took my seat once more and remained silent for the remainder of the meal.

After dessert, we were dismissed to our own houses. I followed the other Slytherins to our Common Room, which was down by the dungeons.

As I approached, I heard other Slytherins saying, "Death to Mudbloods." Sure enough, a huge door appeared, and they vanished behind it.

I stepped up to it and said, "Death to Mudbloods." Nothing happened. I said again, "Death to Mudbloods," a little louder. Still nothing happened. I shouted, "Death to Mudbloods!" Still nothing. I pounded on the wall and bellowed, "DEATH TO MUDBLOODS!" A gaping hole appeared. I saw a group of older Slytherins, laughing at me. I saw Jacob among them.

"That's the spirit, _half-blood_. Maybe someday you'll be _worthwhile_," he mocked. I glared at him.

The next three months were pure hell. It seemed _everyone_ hated me. The other Slytherins hated me because I wasn't a "pure-blood," and everyone else hated me because I was a Slytherin. Jacob and his group constantly played tricks on me, changing the password, hiding inside waiting to scare me. Worst of all was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. I kept running into him the first month of classes. I hadn't really figured my way around Hogwarts, so I would ask him how to get to certain classes. He'd point me in the opposite direction. Half the time I was late to my classes. My teachers were never forgiving. The only teacher who seemed to accept me at all was Professor Dumbledore, who taught Transfiguration. However, he was head of Gryffindor house, so he isolated himself from me, as Gryffindors never got along with Slytherins, or so they said….

But the most horrible, or wonderful, depending on how you see it, trick came in December.

The week before most students were returning to their families for the Christmas Holidays, I was in the Common Room, reading for homework. I'd signed up on a list that Dumbledore had passed around to stay at Hogwarts. I didn't want to go back to the orphanage for Christmas.

As I was reading, minding my own business, Jacob and his chums came strolling in, laughing merrily. It was snowing hard outside, and they'd clearly taken a walk.

Jacob brushed snow out of his hair and sat in a chair next to me.

"Afternoon, Riddle," he said in a mockingly cheerful voice.

"Afternoon," I said flatly, not looking away from my book.

After a slight pause, Jacob went on. "You read too much, Riddle. Hey, are you going home for the Holidays?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Aw, that's too bad," Jacob chuckled. "Well, hey ― I want to show you something. It's really neat, but you can't tell _anyone _about it, all right?"

I glanced at him "If it's so special, why are you offering to show it to _me_?"

Jacob laughed. "Ah, come on, Riddle! It'll be an early Christmas present, what d'you say?"

"No."

Jacob stood up. He dropped his fake nice manner.

"Listen, Riddle, we're gonna show you whether you want to see or not." He motioned to a couple of his friends, and they grabbed my wrists.

"Hey ― what're you _doing_? _GET OFF OF ME_!" I bellowed. But they wouldn't listen. Jacob tore up the parchment I'd been carefully taking notes on and stuffed a bit of it in my mouth.

"You hush now," he said, grinning manically. "We just want to show you something!"

The Slytherins hoisted me up and began dragging me out of the Common Room. Finally I was putting up so much of a fight that two other Slytherins had to grab my ankles. I tried my best to escape, but Slytherins are all-powerful. That much I learned.

Finally, we'd arrived in a part of the castle I knew was never used. Jacob seemed to be looking around, finding the perfect room.

"_Here!_" he said suddenly, pointing into a tall, seemingly abandoned classroom. He pulled out his wand and whispered, "_Alohamora,_" and the door opened. The Slytherin boys tossed me into the room, and I fell to the floor with a sickening _thud_.

I was motionless for a moment because of the pain. Then I leapt up and to the door…. I grabbed at the handle…. But it was useless. They'd locked me in.

I banged on the door, crying, "LET ME OUT! THIS ISN'T FAIR…. I DIDN'T _DO _ANYTHING! LET ME OUT!"

And then it hit me; the boys were going to fetch a teacher. They were going to get me into trouble. I'd deny it, of course, but what good would that do? My word against the whole group of them?

I stopped banging on the wall. I balled my hands into fists. _It's not fair_….

And then, I thought I heard something behind me, so I turned. But there was nothing moving… only a huge, ancient-looking mirror, made of gold with clawed feet.

I walked slowly up to it. Engraved at the top was: _Erised straeh ruoyt ub ecaf rouy ton wohsi_." I wondered what it meant… and then I looked into the mirror itself. My eyes widened.

I saw myself, grown at least twenty years. I looked tall, handsome, and powerful. A man was standing in front of me. I leaned in to get a closer look, and I saw it was _Jacob Sweeny_. He was shaking at my feet, pleading with me. I watched in amazement as I gave a pitiless laugh and swished my wand. In a flash of green light, Jacob fell… _dead_.

I leaned forward. No… _impossible_…. Me, killing _Jacob_?

Then, more people in his group stepped forward, and they met the same fate. However, that did not affect me as much as the next person who stepped forward.

He seemed small beside me, but he had the same dark hair. I recognized him instantly: _my father_. I watched was he begged at my feet as well. He was not spared.

I began breathing heavily. This was… _amazing_, wonderful, and fantastic! But, was any of it true? Was it just a fantasy, or could that really happen?

I continued staring in the mirror, seeing how much power I had gained….

Suddenly, I was brought back to reality as I heard Jacob in the hall.

"― Yes, went here all by himself, Professor! We tried to tell him not to, but he wouldn't listen. He's been doing this for a while now… spending a lot of time alone…"

I heard Dumbledore's voice answer, "Ah, I see."

My heart sank. Dumbledore may not have hated me, but he certainly was going to punish me severely.

I heard the footsteps come right in front of the door. I heard Dumbledore say, "_Alohamora_," and the door opened once more.

Dumbledore and the other Slytherins walked in, Jacob with a smile on his face. Dumbledore looked deeply troubled. He looked at the mirror and then turned to me.

He sighed. Then, after a pause, he continued, "I think I understand what has happened. I would urge you, Tom, to be more careful." Then, he strode out, not giving me a punishment or anything.

The Slytherins looked as shocked as I felt.

"But, Professor! What about ― his punishment?" Jacob called. No response came to this, so Jacob and his friends headed, grumbling, back to the Slytherin Common Room.

I faced the mirror once more. Could Dumbledore really have known I'd looked into it? Did he know what I saw? If so, why didn't he _explain _it all to me?

All these questions I pondered as I returned myself to the Slytherin Common Room. That night, as I lay awake, I realized something: That power was completely in my hands. I may not have it yet, but I could certainly _get _it, but only by paying close attention in school.

And so, once Winter Holiday ended, I became the student with the top grades of Hogwarts. I spent nearly every waking moment, including meals, studying.

Jacob and his friends still teased me, but they seemed to notice I wasn't reacting to it as much as I had before.

In May of that year, I found a book in the library entitled _Hogwarts, A History_. Thinking it would be enjoyable to know a little history, I picked it up. I thumbed through most of the pages, but there was a section that caught my eye:

The Legend of the Chamber of Secrets 

Slytherin encouraged the other three to agree with him that Muggle-borns were unworthy to study magic. However, they all refused. As a result, Slytherin left. Legend has it that he had built a secret chamber, which he called the "Chamber of Secrets." It was sealed before his departure, and only his true heir could open the Chamber, and rid the school of all students not of full Wizard parentage using the creature hidden inside.

That amazed me. A secret chamber! I wondered if it was true. I went out to the back of the school. I saw a common garden snake. I looked at it, and it looked up at me.

"_Hello_," I said. The snake's eyes widened, and I could've sworn I saw it _smile_…

A group of Hufflepuffs nearby all screamed. I frowned.

"Wha ― what're you _doing_?" one screamed.

"What?"

"_What were you saying_?" another one demanded.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You ― you said something to that snake… and, you _hissed_…"

I frowned. "I ― I _hissed_?"

"Yes!"

Suddenly it dawned on me. I remembered another passage from _Hogwarts, A History_: "Salazaar Slytherin was a Parseltongue, meaning he could talk to snakes. This is why the symbol of Slytherin house is a snake." Could… could _I _be Slytherin's heir?

My next four years at Hogwarts were spent searching for the Chamber. It took me forever, and I had no clue where to look. But finally, in my fifth year, I found it. I released the Basilisk inside and attacked Mudblood students, in Slytherin's honor.

But then the school was threatened to be closed. And I could not bear the thought of going back to the orphanage. So I framed a third year Hufflepuff named Hagrid. I poured my soul into a diary though, so that I could give that to another, so Slytherin's dream would at long-last come true….

And so I graduated Hogwarts to years later, a Prefect and Head Boy, top of my class in grades and O.W.L.s.

That was two months ago. Now, I am standing outside Little Hangleton, the town where I know my father lives. My wand is in my shaking hand…. I pull out the parchment with the address on it. Pocketing it once more, I stroll in what I hope is a casual manner.

I pulled out the address again, and quickly found his house. It was _huge_. It looked like a mansion. I saw an elderly looking man, leaning on a walking stick, heading to a small cabin a few meters from the house.

It was daylight, so I climbed up a tree in the front yard and waited. After hours of waiting, the moon had risen. I was thankful, as I was getting stiff from hiding in the tree.

I walked slowly, quietly, up to the door. I whispered, "_Alohamora,_" pointing my wand at the door. It opened noiselessly, and I slipped in, shutting it quietly behind me.

I tiptoed to the drawing room, where I could hear them all talking.

They were laughing. I leaned over, and saw them…. My father, and two elderly people who were clearly his parents. Both father and son had a glass of brandy, and the wife had a glass of wine. Their plates were nearly empty.

My father said, "Ha! Well, what a summer it's been, eh?"

His father laughed deeply and roared, "Hey, isn't today your anniversary?"

My father laughed and said, "Yeah, if I were still married to that _witch_!"

I grabbed my wand tighter. How _dare_ he talk about my mother like that….

"What about that child she was going to have?" my Grandmother asked. "Have you ever seen him?"

"Nah, and I don't want to. He wrote to me, about ten years ago. He said something like, 'Daddy, I'm really lonely in this orphanage. I've never met you and would like to live with you.' So I wrote back, saying, 'You're not meant to be alive, kid! I'm ashamed of you and your mother. As far as I'm concerned, you're not my son.'"

Grandfather laughed deeply once more. "Ha! Served him right! Mind you, it wasn't _his _fault his mother was a witch…."

"_So?_" Father spat. "Am I supposed to love him no matter what, even though his mother was a lying, filthy… _witch_?"

I couldn't take anymore. I leapt out. I pointed my wand at my grandparents.

"_Avada Kedevra!_"

In two flashes of green light, my grandparents were dead… the filth that had born my father were at last dead….

My father looked between them.

"Jesus Christ! Who _are _you?" he yelled.

I pointed my wand at him, breathing heavily. "I'm a messenger, Tom Riddle."

My father's eyes widened. "How ― how do you know my ―"

I snarled, "It's message you'll be glad to hear. Your son is dead."

My father was silent for a moment. "D-dead?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes. Thomas Marvalo Riddle is dead."

"H-how?"

"WHAT DO YOU CARE?" I bellowed, shaking. "YOU TOLD HIM WHEN HE WAS A LITTLE CHILD HE DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!"

My father looked at me. "Wh―what how did you ―"  
"Can't you _see?_" I spat. "_I _used to be Tom Riddle, your _son_!"

Pain suddenly erupted in my father's eyes. "T-Tom? I-Is that… _you_?"

"I _told _you: Tom Riddle is dead!" I shouted. "I ― I am _Lord Voldemort _now! No longer _your _son…. You got your wish, Tom Riddle. I am not your son. You have no son, no one to remind you of the woman you were too _stupid_ to accept for what she was. And now, this is what I have become."

My father said, softly, "Tom… please… I'm sorry…"

I looked away from him. Why was it so _hard_ to kill him? This man was responsible for my life of hell… yet, he seemed to regret it….

"Tom died many years ago. It's too late to bring him back. Goodbye, Mr. Riddle."

And I whispered the curse once more, and my father fell to the floor. I lifted him back into his chair, for some reason I'm not even sure of now.

And then, I let myself out of the front door. I looked above and saw the stars filling the sky…. I wondered if I would ever really enjoy them, enjoy being alive….

"I will," I murmured to myself. "One day…"


End file.
